


Light Like A Zippo Lighter

by Purplesauris



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Funeral, GTA V AU, Geoff Ramsey/Gavin Free - Freeform, Implied Relationship, Jack Pattillo/Michael Jones - Freeform, Kidnapping, M/M, Major injuries, Mute!Ryan, Panic Attacks, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 03:51:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3275621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purplesauris/pseuds/Purplesauris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're the best of the best, the rulers of Los Santos. Ray Narvaez Jr is one of Los Santos' most wanted criminals, and when he disappears during a heist, will the group ever be the same?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light Like A Zippo Lighter

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I read sad stuff right before bed. Hahah, don't worry, I'm working on a fluffier oneshot right now to help you through this. As always, love the fic? Hate it? Tell me so at purplesauris.tumblr.com!

It happened during a heist; there was a garbled, terrified scream, and then nothing. Complete radio silence on Ray's end. The noise pierced the gangs hearts, fear lashing through them. They had never heard a noise like that come from Ray's lips. _Never_. They finished the heist as quickly as they could, everyone rushing back to the rendezvous point in hopes that Ray was there to meet them with a cheeky grin and a snarky comment. He wasn't.

The four of them, Geoff, Michael, Gavin, and Jack left to go bring the cash back to the apartment, saying that all they could do right now was wait and see if it was a trick, to see if Ray was merely hiding. Ryan stayed at the rendezvous point for hours, pacing back and forth along the bank of the river and watching the dark water bubble over the rocks. Eventually, Ryan goes back to the apartment, not saying a word to anyone as he disappears up onto the roof.

Jack and Geoff talk in hushed whispers over the table, papers strewn about as they circle where each of their safe houses are on the map. "You think he's hiding out in one of them?" Geoff grouses, hand coming up to twirl his moustache absentmindedly.

"I'm not sure. It's not like him to cut his radio like that and abandon a heist." Jack says, worried crease in his brow.

"It's worth a shot." Ryan sits quietly on the couch, startling Geoff as he stares at the maps. Ryan places a finger on the safe house farthest away before getting up and heading to the door. "You think he's there?" Ryan shrugs as he gets up, but by the way he walks Geoff knows he's hoping. "Be careful, okay buddy?"

Ryan looks at Geoff over his shoulder, eyes dark as he nods once. Ryan doesn't look back as he grabs the keys to his Adder and takes off through the streets. Ryan drives fast, drives reckless like he always does even though Ray used to say he'd crash and burn that way. If Ray saw Ryan now, swerving and pushing the car to its limits, he'd probably laugh. The drive takes significantly less time than it normally would, what with Ryan breaking multiple traffic laws and overall being a 'danger to society'. Ryan screeches to a stop outside the safe house and draws in a calming breath, stepping out and pulling out his pistol. Ryan surveys the outside, noting that there's no sign of forced entry, so Ryan unlocks the door and pushes it open, advancing quietly. The halls are dark and the air in the house smells stale, like there'd been no airflow until Ryan opened the front door. Ryan searches meticulously, every nook and cranny that he can find, all of Ray's favorite places to camp out. Ryan's stomach sinks with despair as his search bears no fruits, and he sits down heavily against one wall. Ray had always been his link to a world he wasn't fit to be in, the one that could joke around and interpret what Ryan was trying to say through body language. Ryan feels lost without Ray, and he's scared beyond his wits over the scream that echoes through his head.

Ryan takes the drive back to the apartment slow, a thought coming to mind as he drives toward the cliffs. Ryan hikes over the rocks after he goes as far as he can with the Adder, stopping as he overlooks the water. Waves crash into the rocks below, but Ryan didn't come for the view. Ryan looks around a little bit, spotting a small blood stain on one of the rocks. A bloody zippo lighter lays discarded in the grass, and Ryan's heart clenches when he sees the familiar crown engraved on the front. His very own lighter. The one he gave to Ray. Ryan picks it up, grips it tight in his fist as he scours the area, looking for something, anything to help him. Ryan follows a small trail of blood to a cluster of smaller rocks, and Ryan gasps when he sees Ray’s glasses sitting on the rocks, broken lenses pointing in toward the land. Ryan picks them up gingerly, staring at the spidering cracks on the right lense, the blood coating the frame.

Ryan feels rage roll through him in waves, and it takes all he has not to chuck them in the ocean below. Ryan notices a message scrawled into the sand, and Ryan’s heart clenches again; a small heart with the letter R in the middle, a hastily drawn skull next to it. Ryan speeds back to the apartment, storming through the door as Gavin squawks in fear and Jack looks up from the map, instantly standing up. “You found something.”

Ryan nods once, holding his hand out as Jack takes what’s in his hand. Jack wheezes as his breath is stolen, eyes wide. “What’d he bring back?” Michael looks over Jack’s shoulder, a similar noise coming from his mouth. Geoff is next to look, and his expression crumples for a moment before he reels himself in.

“Where’d you find these?” Ryan hops over the couch quickly, planting his index finger on the cliffs. Geoff frowns, worry clear in the way he hunches in on himself. “Why would they be on the coast?”

Ryan draws a heart on the cliff with his finger then points to Ray’s broken glasses. Geoff looks surprised that Ryan is communicating so clearly with them for once. Ryan rolls his eyes behind the mask, sighing in exasperation. Ryan’s throat aches with the noise, and he falls silent again, pulling out his phone so he can type because he’s never had to before, Ray always knew what to say, but it’s like a hole in Ryan’s chest when he thinks about losing Ray. Ryan types quickly with one hand, thumb absently running over the crown on his lighter in the other. Jack looks at the item curiously, recognizing it with a sad frown. “That’s Ray’s lighter.”

Ryan taps the lighter against his chest, and Jack looks confused for a moment before realization dawns on him. “It’s yours. You gave it to him?” Ryan nods, bittersweet that Jack understood what he meant.

Ryan places the phone down and they all take turns reading it, Geoff’s frown deepening. “ _Nothing in safe house. Glasses pointed inland. Followed blood trail to glasses_.”

“Nothing else?” Ryan shakes his head, keeping the drawing in the sand to himself. The others didn’t need to know about that. Not yet, at least, not until Ray is home safe. Ryan deletes the text and drops his phone onto the table, staring blankly at the map in front of him. They all stare at the map, wracking their brains for something, someone who would have taken Ray by surprise and managed to capture him. Michael falls asleep listening to Jack’s soft murmuring, leaning against Jack’s side. Gavin is in a similar state, curled up with his head in Geoff’s lap, Geoff combing his fingers through Gavin’s hair soothingly. Ryan slinks off when the others are busy talking about rival gangs, going to sit out on the balcony overlooking the city.

~*~

Slowly, days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months. There’s absolutely no sign of Ray anywhere, and eventually, they hold a mock funeral. They need closure, they need something to hold on to. They don’t bury anything, just go out to the outskirts of town, to a hill overlooking the city under the shade of a tree. They sit there together and mourn, Gavin crying like a baby and Michael’s lip wobbling as he struggles to keep it together. Tears flow freely from Jack’s eyes, and Geoff is crying too, silently, alone. Ryan is the only one not crying, and for as much as it hurts to think about Ray being dead, as much as he wants the peace of leaving everyone behind, including Ray, he can’t. This is his crew, his family, something he never had back in Russia.

Ryan flips the lid of the lighter open and closed slowly, staring out at the city. Ryan’s throat burns with the need to say something to them all, to scream at them that Ray isn’t dead. He can feel it. He _knows_ that Ray isn’t dead. Ryan turns on his heel, crouching by Jack and waiting until he wipes away a few tears. “How are you not crying Rye?” Ryans heart aches with the sound of his name shortened, and his breath is stolen from him. Ryan taps his chest, showing the lighter as he flicks the wheel, the flame dancing crazily in the wind. It flickers, almost seeming to go out, but it never does, and Jack’s eyes widen. “You think he’s still alive. Rye it’s been months, and we haven’t found _anything_.” Ryan frowns and thumps his chest with a fist, Jack flinching slightly as Ryan flicks the lighter again. He thumps at his chest insistently until Jack seems to get what he’s saying. “You can feel that he’s still alive?”

Ryan nods quickly, thumping his chest once more before he tucks the lighter away and stands, pointing out to the city. Jack stands up and grips Ryan’s hand tightly, eyes puffy and red, but determined. Geoff stands on Ryan’s other side, and Michael takes Ryan’s other hand, Gavin leaning back against Ryan’s chest beside Michael. Ryan draws them all in, wrapping his arms around them all like he can protect them, Geoff staring out at the city. “We’re gonna find him, Ryan. If you say he’s alive, we believe you.”

~*~

Everyone in the apartment researches and talks to informants with a renewed vigor, Ryan working the hardest of all. He pours over papers and uses every single connection he has, pulling people in from Russia and all over the world, the city swarming with new activity. Ryan is the only one up when the doorbell rings, and Ryan has his gun at the ready as he peeks through the peephole. Someone with a cap pulled over their eyes stands there, an envelop in his hand. Ryan flings the door open and points the barrel of his gun at the man’s forehead. He only hands the parcel over calmly, walking away despite the gun pointed at him.

Ryan slams the door shut and tears open the package, pulling out a letter and multiple polaroid pictures. Ryan looks at the pictures, throat constricting as he looks at Ray’s bruised and battered body. Scars litter his chest, scars that weren’t there before, and his head hangs low in submission. In another picture Ray is staring directly into the camera, eyes clouded over in pain, hair longer than it usually is hanging in his face. Ryan flips through the pictures, stopping on one where Ray is sitting up straight, more alert than the others as Ryan follows his gaze. A sign can just be made out, and Ryan thanks whatever deity is listening that Ray is so smart. Ryan reads over the letter quickly, eyes scanning the paper and Ray’s familiar scrawling writing, the y’s distinctly Ray’s.

_They want money, and a lot of it. I know you have enough, Rye, but don’t you dare come with anything for them. They’re good at what they do, but not as good as you. Come alone. The sea breeze is lovely on my skin this time of year._

The note is written hastily, and Ryan automatically knows why the courier wasn’t worried about Ryan shooting him. He’s working for Ray, slipping things out, leaving little hints all over that Ryan had been grasping at for the past month. Ryan hears someone come out of one of the rooms and Ryan looks up, relaxing when it’s just Jack looking at the letter. Ryan hands it over, eyes narrowing to tell Jack to be quiet about it. Jack reads over the letter, fingers stroking the words as if that will bring Ray back to them.

Ryan nods, holding up the picture with the sign in it. The words are in Russian, but Ryan can read them. Ray knew that, but his kidnappers are either too dumb to get a different shot or they figured Ryan couldn’t read Russian. Ryan pulls off one of the gloves he usually wears, revealing an ugly scar on the back of his hand, his former insignia. Jack’s face lights up in understanding and he quickly goes to scribble a note, sticking it on the map. “Let’s go. I’ll fly you in.”

Ryan pulls his glove back on and catches Jack’s hand, squeezing as Jack smiles. Ryan places his fingers on his chin, palm in and moves his hand out, and Jack’s face softens. Jack doesn’t know sign language, but he’s seen Ryan do that enough to know that he’s thanking Jack. They rush out of the door, taking the helicopter parked on top of the building, Ryan putting the coordinates into the GPS navigator. They fly in silence, looking out over the city lights that light up the night sky. The coordinates take them to the shipping docks, to an old decrepit part that seems like it hasn’t been used in years. Ryan gets up and straps on a parachute, heading to the door of the helicopter as Jack hovers. The last thing Ryan hears before wind is rushing through his ears is Jack wishing him good luck, and he plummets quickly towards the earth. Ryan pulls his chute and winces as it jerks on him hard, but his feet connect with the roof of the building and Ryan smoothly gets out from under the parachute, racing towards the door.

Ryan creeps through the darkened building, gun silenced as he shoots anyone he finds, not stopping for a moment. Ryan briefly struggles with one of the guards, wheezing as a crowbar connects, and pain erupts in his side as he feels a rib snap. Ryan hits him with the butt of his gun as hard as he can, grabbing the man's neck and twisting it in a powerful movement. Pain lances through Ryan’s side with each movement but he lets it fuel him, pushing him to move faster as he works his way through the building. Ryan stops in the shadows when he sees Ray hanging from chains as a man walks around him, a blade in his hand.

“You are ready to talk, da?”

“You ask every time but the answer’s the same. Go to hell.” Ray pants out, screaming when the man drives his fist into his stomach, right on a fresh scar that looks like it hurts a lot.

“We have no more patience for this game. You will talk or we will kill you.” The heavy Russian accent grates on Ryan’s nerves, makes his vision go red.

“Just kill me, then. You’d be doing me a favor, I’m almost dying of boredom.” Ryan marvels at the fact that Ray can joke even now, and before the man can silence Ray once and for all, Ryan is rushing out of his hiding place, the man whirling around with a stupefied expression on his face.

Ryan points the gun at the mans head, never wavering as the man laughs. “This is your backup? A man playing dressup?”

Ryan growls low in his throat, and as the man moves to sink the blade into Ray a shot goes off, and the man cries out, cursing in Russian while clutching his hand. Ryan stalks over, delivering a crushing kick to the man’s chest, sending him flying back. Ryan hears the man bark out a command, but all the guards and henchmen are lying dead in their own blood, Ryan chuckling darkly as he stands over the man. The man spits out a curse at Ryan, calling him vile and beginning to describe in detail how Ray screamed, how he pleaded and begged for someone to save him. Ryan smashes his foot down on the mans injured hand, the man choking on his words as a cry of pain rattles from his throat. Ryan places the gun on the man’s forehead, growling as he pulls the trigger. Blood splatters and Ryan draws in a deep breath, grabbing the keys off of the mans body as his shoulders shake. Ryan hurries over to Ray, letting him down as he supports all of Ray’s weight with one arm.

“ _Ryan_.” Ray breathes out, mouth hanging open as he runs trembling fingers over the side of Ryan’s mask. Ryan holds Ray gently, like he might break if he grips too hard. Ryan moves blindly, carrying Ray from the building as Ray presses his face into Ryan’s neck and breathes in the familiar scent of gunpowder, lead and the faint musky cologne that always clings to Ryan’s skin. Ryan smells like home, and for the first time since Ray was taken, he cries. He cries in huge, body wracking sobs as Ryan clambers into a waiting helicopter, cradling Ray to his chest. Ryan grunts in a noise Ray distinctly remembers Ryan making whenever he gets hurt, and Ray struggles weakly. “Are you-”

Ryan motions to his side, then makes a fist. “He broke a rib, at least.” Ray looks up for the first time, and he sees Jack glancing at them occasionally from the cockpit. “His breathing is off. We’re almost home, hang in there you two.”

~*~

Ryan refuses to let Jack carry Ray, no matter how much the two of them protest them fact that he’s hurt. Ryan pushes the door to the apartment open, Michael, Gavin and Geoff all looking up with worried eyes. Their expressions morph into ones of shock, pure happiness and regret. “Ray!” All three of them cry at once, bounding up as Ray looks around the room. He winces at the noise and Ryan shoots everyone a warning look, going to set Ray gently on the couch. As soon as Ray is out of his arms Ryan feels weak, and his side is on fire as his eyes roll back into his head, Geoff barely catching him before he collapses.

Ray stares in horror as Geoff has Jack help pick Ryan up, swiftly moving him to the chaise lounge of the couch. Jack unzips Ryan’s jacket and pulls it off, trying not to jostle him as Jack actually cuts Ryan’s shirt off. Ryan’s side is covered in ugly bruises, and his breathing is rough, shallow as his chest barely rises and falls. Jack mutters an apology before pressing into Ryan’s side, and Ryan jerks, a low moan of pain leaving his lips. Ray moves to go over to Ryan, needing to be near him and to help, but a hand keeps him in place calmly. “Ryan!” Ray jolts when Ryan jerks again, and Michael looks at Ray sadly as he keeps Ray from moving.

“He’ll be okay, Ray. just relax. You’ve been through a lot.”

“I don’t care, Ryan-”

“Risked his life to save you. He doesn’t want you to hurt anymore, so lay back and relax.” Ray stares at Ryan’s limp form for a minute before dropping back down, fresh tears springing to his eyes. Ray cries when Jack picks Ryan up and Ryan’s arm hangs limp, unconscious from either the pain or something Jack gave him. They carry him off to some room farther in the apartment and Ray feels a trickle of panic go down his spine. Jack walks up to Ray and kneels down, first aid kit on the table as he eases Ray back down.

“He’s okay, Ray. Just a couple of broken ribs, nothing too serious.” Ray stares up at the ceiling blankly as Jack looks over the scars on his chest and arms. Ray doesn’t even flinch when Jack picks at one of the uglier scars, pulling out stitches that were never taken out. “I’m so sorry, Ray. If you need to talk, we’re here.”

They all take turns sitting with Ray, talking about what he missed over the past few months he was gone, the funeral they held for him, how Ryan got upset and protested in his own way that Ray was still alive. Geoff is the last one to visit, coming from the room they put Ryan in to sit on the floor leaning against the couch, Ray touching the collar of Geoff’s suit with hesitant, shaking fingers. “You should have seen Ryan, Ray. I don’t know what you two are to each other, and it isn’t my business, but he cares for you. He waited at the rendezvous point for hours, hoping you’d show up. He searched the cliff and found the lighter you left along with your glasses, and for the first time he was communicating to someone other than you. Jack understands his gestures the best out of all of us, beside you of course.”

“He scoured the city over and over, called in old contacts and ran this city like it was his. No one was spared questioning, and he must have spent a couple million on information at least. When he wasn’t working you'd find him flicking that lighter, open and closed, open and closed.” Ray’s chest is tight as tears flow down his cheeks, and Geoff hands him a tissue. “He was scared shitless, he’d disappear for days on end only to come back looking haggard. He took to sitting with Jack. Not sure why, but the two seem closer than the rest of us.”

“Can I go see him?”

“He’s pretty heavily hopped up on drugs right now.” Ray makes a disappointed noise and Geoff sighs, standing up. “Oh, what the hell, I’d give you anything you want right now, honestly. I missed you, Ray.” Geoff picks Ray up, making a soft remark about how light Ray is as he walks through the apartment. Geoff opens the door with one hand and steps into the darkened room, Ray whimpering when he sees Ryan lying immobile on the bed. Geoff sets Ray down on the side of the bed, and Ray touches the bandages around Ryan’s middle lightly.

“I’m sorry, Rye.” Ryan’s eyelids flutter weakly at Ray’s voice but he stays still, breathing softly as Ray hears Geoff leave the room. “I hope you saw my message in the sand. I meant it, you know. They told me about how you searched for me, you didn’t have to do that just for me. I’m not worth that much.” Ray jumps when Ryan takes Ray’s hand, trying to hold it but too weak to do much other than drape his hand over Ray’s. Ryan doesn’t do much else beside struggle to hold Ray’s hand, but Ray knows exactly what Ryan is trying to say with the way he strokes the soft skin on the underside of Ray’s wrist with his fingertips. “I know Rye, I know.” Ryan’s grip tightens for a brief moment, and Ray lays down next to Ryan, not caring that he half hangs off the bed. “I won’t leave.” Ray feels Ryan weakly pet his hair after he lays down. “Not again.”

~*~

Ryan wakes up a few days later, side aching dully and all alone. Ryan sits up carefully, pressing a hand to the tight bandages around his chest and abdomen. Ryan only struggles a little getting up, looking down at the jeans they left him in. Ryan pads out of the room, going slow because each step makes his side hurt and steals some of his breath. Ryan steadies himself with a hand against the wall as he walks out into the living room, hair hanging loose around his face. Everyone looks up, making noises of protest as a warm, solid body collides against him, making him rock back on his feet as lips are planted on his. Ryan’s eyes are uncharacteristically wide until they flutter closed, hands sliding over Ray’s back as Ray stands on his tiptoes to reach properly. The kiss is over much too fast for Ryan’s liking, but Ray’s cheeks are red as he steps back in embarrassment.

“Sorry I-” Ryan grabs at Ray’s waist tenderly and kisses him again, shutting Ray up as the others give them a moment of privacy, talking amongst each other. The kiss is full of pain, sadness, grief and loss, but love floods through it, relief making Ryan’s knees weak. Ryan leans  his forehead against Ray’s, eyes scanning over a face he’s missed more than anything. “I wasn’t sure you wanted them to know.” Ray’s voice is quiet, and Ryan shrugs, writing his response on Ray’s back. Ray frowns but Ryan kisses it away, writing some more against Ray’s skin as he relaxes.

“Alright, you shouldn’t be out of bed, and you are supposed to be resting as well.” Jack’s voice is stern but tinged with amusement as Ray grumbles and goes back to sit in the corner of the couch, tucked among pillows and blankets. Ryan presses a hand to his side absentmindedly and waves Jack off, tapping a scar on his collarbone. Jack automatically looks to Ray and Ray smiles a bit wistfully.

“That means he’s had worse. And he’s a stubborn asshole.” Ryan rolls his eyes and taps his cheek, Ray motioning towards the mask that sits on the coffee table. Ryan doesn’t put it on, but he grabs it on his way to tuck himself among the pillows that surround Ray. Ray gladly lets Ryan settle next to him, fingers combing through Ryan’s hair and pulling out any tangles. Ryan lays down, and gives Jack a pointed look that says it’s the best Jack is going to get out of him. Jack sighs and goes back to playing trials, Gavin, Michael and Geoff all joining in on the game. Ryan sits up, scooting between Ray’s legs as Ray brings a brush out from somewhere on the couch. Ray takes his time brushing through Ryan’s hair, humming to himself as Ryan tries not to slump. Ryan traces hearts over Ray’s sweats and Ray affectionately kisses Ryan’s back, going back to what he was doing before.

“Ray’s been waiting for you to get up so he could play with your hair again.” Ryan huffs out a laugh as Ray makes a small noise of complaint, shooting Michael a dirty look as Michael laughs. “You’ve been talking about his hair for the past two hours, Ray.”

“Have you played with his hair? Didn’t think so. You don’t understand how soft it is.” Michael looks curious, and Ryan rolls his eyes before waving for him to go ahead. Michael hesitantly touches Ryan’s hair, making a noise of astonishment as he runs his fingers through Ryan’s hair.

“Holy shit Ryan, what the fuck? How the hell is your hair so soft?” Ray looks smug as Michael goes back to his spot sitting in Jack’s lap, Geoff laughing.

Ryan looks to Ray to tell them, and Ray snickers while turning Ryan back to sit properly. Ray expertly french braids Ryan’s hair, holding his hand out for a hair tie, which Michael promptly hands him. “Ryan spends most of his money on hair products.” The rest of them start laughing, but Ryan only shrugs as if to say ‘I don’t see your hair getting played with’ as he relaxes across Ray’s lap.

It’s a couple weeks later that anyone sees that Ray is actually affected by what happened those months he was gone. His pupils are pinpoints of fear as he jerks away from Ryan who’s sleepily tracing scars on Ray’s arms. Ryan grunts in pain as Ray accidentally kicks Ryan in the side while trying to get away, and Ryan tumbles off of the couch, coughing and panting as his head hangs low, Ray covering his ears. Ray’s breathing is ragged as he whimpers and jerks away from anyone who tries to come near him, shaking like a leaf as he curls in on himself. Ryan tries to draw in a breath but coughs violently, blood dripping onto the ground and staining his lips. Ryan convulses with each cough, desperately trying to draw in air. Jack swears loudly, pushing the others away from Ray and Ryan and issuing a command.

“Call Caleb right now. We’ll be there in 10 minutes.” Jack kneels next to Ryan and guides him through some kind of breathing technique, rubbing his back soothingly. Ryan shoves away from Jack weakly, blood covering his chin and lips as he reaches out for Ray. Ray stops shaking and crying abruptly when Ryan’s hand lands on his leg, and he stares at Ryan with wide, scared eyes as Ryan’s breath rattles in his throat. There’s a flurry of shouting and Jack is lifting Ryan up, Ryan coughing again and splattering blood on the front of Jack’s stupid hawaiian shirt.

Ray gets up, rushing after the two, Geoff stopping him before he can get through the door. “What did I- What did I do?!”

“You kicked him in the ribs on accident. Jack has to get him to Calebs immediately before it gets worse.”

Cold fear sweeps over Ray as he stares at the door. “Before what gets worse?” Ray’s voice shakes and his lower lip quivers, hands curling into fists as Geoff sits him back down.

“His lung collapsed. At least, that’s what Jack thinks happened, a rib must have rebroken and stabbed him.”

~*~

Geoff refuses to let Ray go see Ryan, saying that Ryan can’t have any visitors, not even Ray, and that his condition isn’t stable enough yet. Ray waits weeks while Ryan lays in some bed far away, trying to recover from what Ray did to him. The thought gnaws at Ray’s insides, turns them black with regret and despair. He draws away from the rest of them, finding small hidey holes to cram himself into because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone else when the tremors and flashbacks come. Ray crawls into a small attic-like space, dragging a blanket from Ryan’s room with him as he curls up by the small window and plays his DS. Ray can feel the memories lurking at the back of his mind, waiting for the moment that Ray lets go to strike, to drag him back to that godforsaken building and those ugly chains.

Ray listens to the music of a pokemon battle, not hearing the creaks of the old ladder, jumping when a face pops into his vision. Ray screams out of fear and shock, believing that he’s hallucinating, Ryan can’t be here, he’s at Calebs recovering from what Ray did to him. Ryan beckons Ray over, Ray trembling and shaking his head. “No Rye, you can’t be here. You can’t be around me.” Ryan frowns, failing to get up into the small attic. Ray scoots back, pressing himself against the wall. “Ryan I can’t hurt you again!”

Hurt flashes over Ryan’s face regardless, and Ray feels his stomach sink as Ryan hesitates, nodding in understanding as he ducks out of the attic. Ray immediately feels like the biggest asshole on the planet and he scrambles to get out of the attic, blanket dragging behind him as he runs through the apartment, looking for Ryan. Jack stops Ray with a firm hand on his shoulder, sad frown on his face. “He locked himself in his room. You won’t be able to get in for a couple days now, I’d guess.”

“I can’t do anything right with him, can I, Jack?” Jack’s face softens and he draws Ray into a hug, Ray sniffling wetly as he squeezes Jack tight. Jack rubs his back, shushing Ray and murmuring to him.

“The way he sees it, and the way he told me, it was a risk he was willing to take. He knew you wouldn’t be okay, and he knew you might lash out when one of your spells came.”

“I can’t bear the thought of hurting him again, Jack. I can’t.”

“Let him decide if you’re hurting him. He’s seen a lot, done a lot in his life. A collapsed lung is the least of his concerns when you’re in pain.”

“Dude, Ryan would do anything for you.” Michael pops his head around the corner, Gavin peeking around as well.

“Don’t be a prick Ray, go talk to him.” Ray sighs heavily and Jack smiles reassuringly, patting Ray’s back and nudging him. Ray trudges to Ryan’s room, stomach twisting with nerves as he knocks softly. Ray hears the door unlock and he opens the door slowly, peeking in a moment before he shuffles in and closes the door after him. the room is dark, but Ray sees Ryan playing with a lighter while sitting on the bed, flicking it open and closed, the clinking noise loud in Ray’s ears.

“I’m sorry I was an asshole, up in the attic. I’m scared and stupid and I don’t want to hurt you but I can’t control it and you’re always the one that gets hurt, not me. You’re the one that always gets shot during a heist or gets the shit beat out of him and you’re always so _strong_ no matter what and I wish that I could be strong like you but I can’t. I’m weak and I cry too much and when I get tortured I can’t shut my brain off like you can, I can’t just clock out and wake up one day saying ‘oh it’s over?’ and carry on with my life.”

Ryan waits patiently for Ray to finish, typing a message on his phone. “ _No one expects you to. I’m not exactly the model person you want your son to be, Ray. You aren’t weak, you feel, you let your emotions guide you, and that isn’t bad_.”

“My emotions collapsed your lung.”

“ _My rib collapsed my lung, not you. Don’t you dare say it’s your fault because it isn’t_.”

“It is, though. I kicked you, and if I didn’t have these stupid moments of panic I could have saved you all that pain.”

Ryan chuckles, handing the phone over to Ray once more. “ _I was in agony those months you were gone, Ray. A little kick to the ribs is nothing to me now. Panic attacks are normal, especially after what happened to you_.”

Ray shudders, still at war with himself as he bites his lip and absently traces an old scar on his arm. Ryan throws his phone on the bed as he stands up, advancing towards Ray slowly. Ray steps back as Ryan steps forward, and eventually they’re pressed chest to chest, and Ray can feel the bandages through Ryan’s t-shirt. Ryan cups Ray’s cheeks, thumbs smoothing over his cheekbones tenderly. Ryan leans down, breath ghosting over Ray’s lips as he hesitates, as if waiting for something. The moment Ray touches Ryan, slides his hands over Ryan’s chest Ryan shudders, pressing his lips firmly to Ray’s and wasting no time, licking past Ray’s lips and rubbing his tongue against Ray’s.

Ryan kisses like a man desperate for contact, deprived of anything for years, kisses like the world is ending and he’ll never see Ray again. Ray is swept away in the kiss, floating among the clouds as he feels his spirit soar, feeling _right_ wrapped in Ryan’s arms. Ryan makes a noise low in his throat and a jolt goes through Ray, gasping and gripping at Ryan’s shirt like it’s a lifeline and he’s drowning. Ryan’s hands move to grip Ray’s hips, and his fingers dance over Ray’s sides, trailing up and down, feeling every bump of Ray’s ribs and his hipbone where it juts out slightly because Ray lost a lot of weight while he was gone.

Ray is almost embarrassed at how thin he is, how his hip bones stick out and his ribs are clearly visible, but Ryan steals those thoughts with gentle caresses, pressing Ray back against the door gently. Ray pulls in a large breath of air when Ryan pulls back, nuzzling Ray’s neck and slipping his arms to hug Ray close. “I’m sorry for everything I put you through.”

Ryan huffs and holds Ray a bit tighter, pressing his lips to Ray’s ear, fingers writing words into Ray’s skin. ‘Worth it.’

“I love you, Rye.” Ryan kisses Ray once more, mouthing those three words against Ray’s lips and against his neck. He’ll continue to mouth those words over every inch of Ray, through all the times that Ray is overcome by the horror of his past or through all the close calls they have when Ryan is hurt and bleeding but still looking out for Ray. Ryan would suffer so much more than a few broken ribs and a collapsed lung as long as it meant Ray was safe, and Ray would take all the torture in the world if it meant Ryan didn’t have to bear everything alone. Their relationship is a dangerous one, a painful one, but there’s love, and there’s trust, and that’s all they need.

 


End file.
